


Faith of the Hero

by CathyFowl



Series: Thedosian Works In Progress [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Part one of a trilogy, Slow Build, Slow Burn, WRITING EXCERCISE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10020980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathyFowl/pseuds/CathyFowl
Summary: Mahariel got away from his encounter with the Eluvian with something more than the Taint coursing through his veins. Or, how the Fifth Blight is won if there is a spirit leading the last of the wardens.





	1. Mahariel

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a (hopefully) trilogy as a writing excise of different writing styles and writing methods. I hope it'll turn out to be an enjoyable read.

It is beautiful.

I know, it must be a demon, but still...

It doesn't have a fully elven shape. It is made of pure light, so bright, that it hurts my eyes to look at it directly. I cannot believe it to be evil.

**_"What have you done, Mahariel?"_ **

It speaks! In Elvhen!

Its voice sounds like dozens of bells ringing in unison, forming a beautiful melody of the Elvhen words.

I am so glad that I sneaked around Keeper Marethari and listened in on her lessons to Merril. It is unfair that only the First is taught Elvhen. The rest of us have to be content with picking up some commonly used words from our elders. Like 'child' and 'bloodkin' and 'elder'.

My curiosity might become my doom now, but I do not regret wanting to learn more.

**_"You have doomed yourself, child,"_** The demon... no, _spirit_ , says _. **"But you have Faith. The Creators may have forsaken you, but I shall not."**_

It lunges for me and I stumble back. It doesn't look so benevolent anymore. Does it want to possess me? But why? I'm not a mage! I'm not anything. Nothing special, just one of the clan's hunters. Who is too curious for his own good.

I can feel the cool surface of that Void-taken mirror behind my back. There is nowhere to run. And where is Tamlen? He should be here with me. We do everything together...

I can feel the corruption of the mirror radiating through my body as I press myself as close to it as I can. The spirit reaches out with ghostly fingers. There is no escape from it.

Just as it touches me, the mirror's surface gives way, and I fall through. There is a bright flash of light before my world is plunged into darkness.


	2. Marethari

We have lost two hunters today.

I feel like it is my failure as a Keeper, that I couldn't protect my people.

Tamlen is gone, no trace of him left. And while Mahariel has been found and is alive, for now, I can feel the corruption spreading through his body. I am unable to stop it.

A Grey Warden found him. His name is Duncan, and he says that he might be able to save Mahariel's life. But only if he joins the Grey Wardens. He'll be as lost to us as if he was dead.

I cannot make the decision for him. He'll have to make the choice himself. His life is in the Creators' hands now.

 

***

 

Mahariel finally woke up. He's weak and quieter than I've ever seen him. His eyes shine with a feverish light. At least I hope it's just the fever. Otherwise... No, I shan't think of such things.

He listened to Duncan's explanation and just nodded. He doesn't seem surprised by his fate. He mentioned a mirror, and Duncan took him and Merril to check on it. Duncan said it might be the source of the Blight's corruption.

It needs to be destroyed.

 

***

 

They looked for Tamlen, but still, no trace of him. No body to be found, no trail to be followed. He is most probably dead, but it is hard to give up hope without proof.

Mahariel is leaving at dawn with the Grey Warden. He is still weak, but Duncan says that he won't get any better without the wardens’ help.

They need to get back to Ostagar as soon as possible.

I am a failure as a Keeper. I know this, but I do not know what more I could do to better protect my clan. We're leaving too. If I'm to believe a shemlen, I shall believe the words of a Grey Warden. And he says a Blight is coming.

So we go as far North as we can.

I'll protect the rest of my Clan with whatever means necessary.


	3. Duncan

He is a quiet lad. A Dalish hunter, wearing the vallaslin of Dirthamen. I fear the light in his eyes.

They are bright golden, almost impossibly so. I keep wandering if something else happened to him by that mirror. Besides getting corrupted by the Blight. I pity his fate, he doesn’t know the hardship that is ahead of him.

"Duncan," he says, and I startle ever so slightly at hearing his deep, smooth voice. It has the vaguest hint of an echo that gives it an eerie quality. "Would you tell me more about the Grey Wardens?"

"I have told you all I'm allowed, I'm afraid," I tell him. "After the Joining, if you..." I shake my head. "After you've joined the Grey Wardens, I shall tell you more."

"No you won't..." he whispers, barely audible, to himself.

His words give me a bad feeling, like they are a prophecy.

"Will it not matter that I am an elf? That I'm Dalish?" He asks.

"You are a great fighter. I've seen what carnage you have wrought against the giant spiders in those ruins, with just your bow and arrows. You will be fine," I try to reassure him. "Among the Grey Wardens there are no titles or races. We're all Wardens and that is all."

He nods and lapses back to silence. His eyes follow the dance of the flames of our campfire.

"I'll keep watch," I tell him. "Please, try to rest. We have a long journey ahead of us."

He nods and murmurs quiet thanks before lying down on his threadbare blanket.

I hope he'll make it through the Joining. I have faith in him, and something tells me, we'll need his quiet strength in the dark days ahead of us.


	4. Alistair

He's an elf. Short and lean and quiet as a mouse.

If I haven't seen him take down half a dozen Blight Wolves with half as many arrows, I wouldn't believe that Duncan thought it a good idea to recruit him.

He's also a leader. It's a welcome trait.

 

"You must be Alistair."

Those were the first words he spoke to me. No nonsense, no jokes, no nothing. Just a quiet stating of facts.

"And you must be the new recruit Duncan spoke about. I didn't expect you to be an elf."

Okay, I shouldn't have said that. I knew as soon as the words left my mouth. But he's so short and skinny. Well, he carries a bow and arrows, and a pair of daggers at his narrow hips, so he's a rogue, I guess. And rogues should be small and sneaky, but... he looks weak. Like he can barely stand straight.

And there's a feverish light in his golden eyes. It's creepy. It reminds me of possessed mages. Except he is not a mage. I would’ve sensed his magic.

Although... there _is_ something off about him.

But I really couldn't tell what.

 

I watched him talking to the kennel master. He seemed to be helping out with one of the mabari. It's the first time I saw him make any other expression than tired disinterest.

His smile looked so sad though.

He picked some strange flowers later, when we were out in the Wilds to gather the Darkspawn blood for the Joining. He said they were for the sick mabari.

 

He fights in a style that might look careless, if you're not watching him closely. But I would describe it differently.

He looks like he has faith in his skills. He loosens his arrows, but doesn't wait for them to hit their target. He's already notched the next and aiming for his next target. Yet, all of his arrows shot true.

It's kinda amazing actually.

And scary, when his arrow wizzes past my face to lodge into the eyesocket of a Hurlock, that managed to sneak up on me. I guess, I should be grateful. But still... scary.

 

Though not as scary as the witch we meet while looking for the treaties.

She looks exactly like I would've imagined a wild apostate to look like. Dressed strangely, carrying an obviously self-made staff, she is intimidating. She's also tall, has a sharp tongue and calls herself Morrigan.

I am convinced that she will turn us into toads the first opportunity she gets. And then eat us for dinner.

But Mahariel, the elf recruit, the skinny guy, who's shorter even than the witch, makes fast friends with her. Just by being nice. It's unbelievable. If I tried being nice to a witch, I'd be killed in a minute, I'm sure.

But Mahariel doesn't get killed. Instead, the witch Morrigan takes us to her mother, who seems to have taken the treaties to "keep them safe".

Her mother is Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds. I try not to shake in my armor too much.

Flemeth regards Mahariel with narrowed eyes after he greats her with a deep bow, and calls her "Ashabellanar". They talk polite circles around each other that I don't understand a word of.

She watches the elf like _his_ eyes are weird. I guess they are, but not as creepy as the witches'. I mean, they have yellow eyes for Maker's sake, yellow! Not even Mahariel's are that yellow. His are more of a bright golden.

But both Morrigan and her mother have these yellow, catlike eyes. At least I've only seen cats with those kinda eyes before.

Maybe those weren't cats. Maybe it's a witch thing and those were witches _disguised_ as cats!

Maybe...

"Come on Alistair," I'm pulled from my thoughts on witches and cats by Mahariel. He has the Grey Warden treaties. "We should get back before it gets fully dark."

There, that's the leader. Makes my job so much easier. I hate to lead. Too much responsibility. And I'm not good at it. And I don't wanna disappoint anybody. Or get them killed.

 

***

 

Well, that could've gone better.

Two dead out of three.

 

_In death, sacrifice._

 

It's such a shame.

But Mahariel pulled through.

He came to with a blood curling scream, wild-eyed and gasping for air. Much like myself.

Except he lapsed into silence again, and we couldn't get a word out of him for the rest of the night.

 

Duncan dragged us to the war meeting.

And I had to stand face to face with my brother, as they figured out how to fight the advancing horde.

I can't figure out if I'm envious of Cailan, for having the family I was denied. Or be glad that I don't have to be king. Or be married to Anora. That lady is scarier than a witch. I don't know how Cailan manages her.

And then Duncan wants us out of the fight. Typical. I hope it's just over-protectiveness, because otherwise I would be greatly hurt. That he thinks I'm too weak to fight by his side. I want to prove him wrong, but he's adamant, that me and Mahariel light the signal fire.

This whole signal thing stinks to me. Why can't Loghain and his soldiers just fight with the rest of the army. I know he doesn't like wardens, but this is... probably some kind of complicated maneuver I will never understand.

I prefer straight on fights. When you know who you are fighting and why. Like killing Darkspawn. Much better than being a Templar.

 

And then everything that can go wrong, does go wrong.

We have to fight through scores of Darkspawn just to get to the top of the Tower of Ishal and when we're already late with lighting the signal fire, we get flattened by an Ogre.

I mean I do. Mahariel does something though, that feels like magic, but can't be and the next moment he's _on_ the ogre with both his daggers buried deep in its throat and eye.

We light the fire. But we're just too late.

I can see that we're losing down there. I can't find Duncan in the fray. Or Cailan. I should be down there with them.

A soft cry of pain is the only thing that alerts me that we're under attack again. Then I am shot down as well, just when I see Mahariel's body crumple to the floor, shot full of arrows.

So much for joining the fight below...


	5. Morrigan

I do not know what Mother expects me to do with this one.

She said to watch over him, but he is harmless. A Dalish hunter, without his weapons. I could deal with him with one flick of my hand if it came to that.

Mother brought them back last night. They looked more dead than alive. Especially this one.

The big lug awoke hours ago. I heard him talking with Mother, swearing and despairing, when he found out that everyone was dead. Well, every Grey Warden. Including his precious Warden-Commander. He didn't even ask about the king.

Ah, the elf is stirring.

I must admit, I startle when he sits up and gasps and his whole body glows for a moment. I hope it's just a trick of my eyes, because that lad should not have magic. _Any_ magic.

Maybe it's a Dalish thing. Mother refused to answer what "Ashabellanar" meant. I'm sure though that it has something to do with this man being stranger and deemed more dangerous than the ex-templar-in-training pacing outside the hut.

"What happened?"

For a moment his voice sounds like a demon’s. All harmonies and too beautiful. Then it's back to normal.

"Where am I?" He looks around confused, until his gaze settles on me. Then he smiles. It shouldn't look so... desirable, his smile.

"Morrigan, I'm glad to see you again," he says.

I frown. I don't trust him. He's way too polite to me, too kind. He must want something.

"You won't be as glad, when you hear the news."

I tell him the results of the battle at Ostagar. He listens with a grim expression. After I finish relaying the news, he stands. He can barely stand, but he wants to talk to the Big Lug.

"Where is Alistair?"

"Just outside, but you should..." he doesn't even let me finish before he shoulders past me and exits the hut.

I follow him. And I'm treated to a startled warrior, with tear smudges on his face, being hugged by the slender rogue.

"I'm sorry, Alistair." Mahariel says, he himself fighting tears. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything for him."

The Big Lug starts crying again and now I'm just irritated. Why did Mother have to rescue them from Ostagar? She should've just left them for dead.

After Alistair cries himself out again, they talk with Mother. I go back to the hut, uninterested in whatever they want to wag their tongues about. I prepare dinner and hope I can eat in peace with only Mother for company.

When I come outside again, they are preparing to leave.

And Mother says that I'm to go with them.

"What?!? Why?" I ask, but Mahariel cuts in with that annoyingly charming smile of his.

"I will take good care of your daughter, Ashabellanar," he says and kisses Mother's hand. She has a shit-eating grin on her face and I'm more confused by their interactions than by being sent away.

I could see some of the world at least.

Be away from my annoying Mother for a little while.

I am going to miss her. But I would never admit that aloud. To anyone.


End file.
